


Stolen

by bornforwar_archivist



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-31
Updated: 2006-12-31
Packaged: 2020-03-13 05:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18934060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornforwar_archivist/pseuds/bornforwar_archivist
Summary: By CarlyA retelling of "the god you know".





	Stolen

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Delenn, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Born For War](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Born_For_War), which closed in 2015. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in March 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Born For War collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bornforwar).

There were a few fruit trees behind the house; Xena found him there, lying on the grass in the sun. He was wearing coarsely-woven loose trousers, like those a villager wore. He had no boots, and she was unaccountably annoyed at the picture of him, running around the farm bare-footed, like a boy, ignorant of the dangers.

 

“Ares!” Xena called, moving across the meadow towards him. She waited for some smart remark, but there wasn’t a sound; not even his legs shifted. She hesitated, then, her mouth suddenly dry.

 

Fool. She’d been a fool to simply leave him on an errand for the Amazons . . . Gabrielle could easily have managed Prince Morloch . . . half the land had been out for Ares’ blood, and she’d left him. Someone had run him through, she was suddenly certain, and dragged him into the orchard.

 

Unless it was his own foolishness that had killed him, his bare feet treading on a snake, some poisonous spider. Or perhaps he’d climbed too high, trying to pluck some distant fruit. But it was spring; the trees blossomed white around him.

 

Xena forced herself to take the few steps forward, and knelt by his body. A soft sound left him; he wasn’t dead, he was sleeping.

 

Something twisted inside her, and she gasped, laying a hand on her chest. It had hurt. Her whole body tensed, and she realised that although there had been many times that she’d had her knife at his throat, this was the only time she had felt angry enough to kill him.

 

She laid a hand on his shoulder and shook him. He didn’t stir with a shout; instead, he blinked once or twice, looking at her. Then he smiled.

 

“Xena.”

 

She had been kneeling over him; he lifted a hand and laid it against her cheek, the curve of her face. He was still smiling, but her face was stricken. Her pulse beat with anger, and her heart twisted again. But they stayed like that until a great breeze came up, showering them with white blossoms.

 

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

 

“No. No, not like that,” Eve frowned, watching as Claudius squeezed his eyes shut, his fists clenched. “That’s like – like a child, trying to force himself into sleep.”

 

“I’m supposed to sleep?” Claudius asked, opening his bright eyes and tilting his head. “I can do that.” He proceeded to stretch himself out on the warm stones, wearing a blissful smile.

 

Eve stifled a laugh, then pulled him up. She laid a firm hand on his shoulder, and looked directly into his eyes. “No, Claudius,” she repeated. “You’re supposed to _wake_.”

 

She turned a moment, looking at the scene that surrounded them. The bustling of busy Indian streets, with the accompanying noise, spicy scent, bright colours; that was all below them. Here, sitting at the base of a ruined temple to an unknown god, there was something of silence; there was something of peace.

 

It had changed her, both the noise and the silence, she knew. Even her clothes of mourning had changed, into bright silks – she had tried the long tunic and trousers of the salwar kameez; she’d tried the tight blouse and voluminous cloth of the sari. Neither had quite suited. After all, although she refused to fight, she preferred being able to leap out of the way easily when a man came after her bearing a long knife. So she’d compromised – she wore both the sari blouse and the salwar trousers. If anyone objected, she’d perfected a firm stare that usually quelled their voice.

 

“We’ll be going home soon, I think,” Eve said finally. “What I’ve learned here, I want to share. But it will be dangerous for both of us . . .”

 

“I know,” Claudius replied. “That’s why I can’t understand what you’re teaching me. Why should I close my eyes?”

 

Eve sighed. “I don’t want you to be blind, Claudius. But there are important things to see – that your eyes know nothing of.”

 

“Such as?” Claudius challenged.

 

Eve closed her own eyes, then, and relaxed. “There’s a boy, nearly a man, who is coming up behind us. He’s searching for something . . .”

 

She heard Claudius gasp, and then she turned. The boy was appearing, just behind them.

 

“What do you do here, at the temple of the unknown god?” The boy asked. As Eve had said, he was near manhood.

 

“This god is unknown to you,” Eve smiled. “Not to us.”

 

Then she beckoned him forward, while Claudius watched, sceptically, and revealed to him the unknown god.

 

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

 

Ares insisted he come to Rome, too, although she’d just come to say goodbye. All the time he was grabbing his things, settling his horse, Xena was fuming. She was furious at him. Why hadn’t he – why hadn’t he got Gabrielle, and Eve, and herself out, way back when Amphipolis was under Athena’s attack?

 

A sudden memory of that time jolted her, and she looked around uneasily.

 

“Are you almost ready, Ares?” Gabrielle called impatiently. “We did want to head off . . . today . . .”

 

Ares tossed an apple at the girl, and she caught it expertly. “I’m not willing to live on grass the whole way to Rome, you know," he told her, “and neither is my horse.” Then he grinned. “That was one of his apples, you know.”

 

Gabrielle winked back at him. “Tastes delicious, too.” She enjoyed his disappointed look.

 

Ares finally saddled up, and they set off. Xena realised she had said barely a word since the orchard. Gabrielle knew her well. When she was angry, the slightest thing would set her off. Oh why, oh why had Gabrielle listened to the Furies? Why hadn’t she fought them?

 

She took a deep inward breath and tried to calm herself. It was a gorgeous blue-skied day, and they were on a long journey, and she’d see her daughter at the end of it –

 

Why hadn’t Eve, with her instincts, managed to avert the sais before it got anywhere near her? With all her warrior instincts, how had Gabrielle managed to get so close?

 

She shook her head. She wasn’t angry with Eve. She wasn’t angry with Gabrielle.

 

“With me, it’s my sword,” Ares was saying conversationally. “So – I suppose it fits that with Aphrodite, it’s a kiss. Who knew how much a stolen kiss could be worth?”

 

Xena saw Gabrielle scribbling something down surreptiously on a scroll. Ares didn’t know how many of his clever one-liners the bard had recorded.

 

“Still – a sword can be returned. A kiss?” Gabrielle asked, as they headed towards the main road west.

 

“A kiss can be returned. Or so I’ve heard,” Ares grinned. Gabrielle rolled her eyes.

 

“I don’t know why she would have kissed the man in the first place. Aphrodite visiting one of his bacchanalias? Doesn’t seem like her. It’s not the kind of place for love.”

 

She’d kissed him at a bacchanalia. It had been a lie, but true, as well. She’d hurt Eve so much, but she was willing to hurt her to save her. In the end, it hadn’t been that which saved her. It could have been, if he’d believed her then, and kept Eve a secret, oh why, why . . .

 

“Well, there’s no Bacchus, now. Perhaps Aphrodite has had to take on a few duties not strictly her own.”

 

Ares said it with a leer, as a jest. Xena had to stop herself from grabbing her chakram and throwing it directly at him. It was no jest, that half the gods were dead, because of her. She’d killed Bacchus so long ago now that Ares had probably forgotten he was dead at her hand . . .

 

Like the others, Athena, Artemis, Hephaestus. She did not regret her actions. How could she, when it meant Eve lived? But there had always been another way. Not this way – with Ares mortal, ready to leave her with a fall, or a cold, or a blow. It had not had to have been this way.

 

A twisted smile came over her face. The irony. She was angry enough to kill him now, because she did not want him dead.

 

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

 

Claudius didn’t stop asking `how’d you do that? huh?’ all the way back to Rome. Eve gave up trying to use words to explain. It didn’t matter, anyway. That kind of knowing wasn’t important. It was loving that was important, and words couldn’t explain that.

 

Eve remembered Claudius as a boy from when she herself had been a child, growing up in the provinces. He’d been older than her, of course, but less than her, because of his twisted leg, his slowness at speech. She remembered laughing at him, and that he listened to her now anyway revealed to her his inner strength.

 

It had been by chance – no, by providence, she corrected herself – that she’d met up with Claudius on her way to India, following Eli’s path. She wanted to walk wherever he had walked. But soon she realised that simply following a trail was nothing. Her real task was to create others to follow . . .

 

And Claudius, stumbling, lost, who’d fallen on her in great distress one day – certain a lion was stalking his camp, or even a dragon – was part of the plan, too. It amused her, the ironies of the Way. She was the great murderer of the Elijans; so, she would become their champion. Claudius was the weakest and most despised of the royal family; so, it was the plan all along that he become Emperor.

 

Returning to Rome unnerved her, however. She wished that they had time to visit Greece first, and her mother. That would have steadied her for her task. But from the tales that they heard from travellers, about Caligula’s persecution of the Elijans; well, they had no time to lose. But still – she wished she could see her mother again.

 

“Whoah!”

 

Claudius pulled at the reins of his horse, slowing him to a stop. A great log had fallen in the middle of their path.

 

“Look around.” Eve whispered urgently. “That log did not fall accidently. This is the place for an attack, an ambush. If only we could leap over it . . .”

 

It was too broad for that. Instead they had to lead their horses around, perilously close to the edge of the cliff. And, of course, there were the brigands, waiting for them, large swords hanging at their waists; a smirk on their faces. Eve kept her eye upon the leader, who stood confidently at their head, wearing a red band around his curls, an embroidered vest, loose trousers like her own. A dangerously large curved sword by his side.

 

“Oh! Two pilgrims, that’s all,” A smaller man behind the leader spoke disconsolately.

 

That was who they had to be, of course, Eve realised. Discovering amongst them the heir to the throne of Rome would mean a ransom demand, and would end the advantage of surprise they had against the crazed Caligula.

 

“We have nothing but ourselves, our horses, and a little food for our journey,” Eve said honestly. “You’ll have to wait for some rich merchant to rob – we can provide you with nothing.”

 

The leader raised an eyebrow. “Nothing?”

 

Eve used her firm stare, under which most men quailed. “Nothing.”

 

He did not quail, although the men behind him shifted uncomfortably. Instead, he smiled.

 

“Then we cannot leave you out here alone, in all good faith,” he told her seriously. “We have a mountain hospitality here – if we find some poor pilgrims with nothing, well, we must give them even that which they do not ask.”

 

“It’s not necessary –“ Claudius began, but was silenced immediately by the movement of the leader’s hand to his sword. “Although it is very kind of you.”

 

The leader shrugged, and turned his eyes back to Eve. “Of course.” Then he made an odd bow. “I am Tal. And you?”

 

“My name is Eve," she replied easily, knowing few people knew her as such. “And this is –“

 

“Alexander,” Claudius put in suddenly, with something of a smile. Eve remembered she had told him a story about a Greek leader of that name. Mythological, of course.

 

“Come, then, Eve and Alexander,” Tal repeated carefully. “Oh – no, let us have the pleasure of leading your horses to camp.”

 

Eve nodded grimly. So they were to be prisoners – and they needed to get to Rome as soon as possible. Well, everything was part of a plan – and perhaps that even included Tal.

 

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

 

Xena concocted the plan as she was wont, while Gabrielle thought of the details, how to bring a chariot into Rome when it was against the law to bring any kind of wheeled vehicle inside the walls during the day; where to get the necessary disguises, the kind of voices they would need to employ.

 

Ares listened to their talk with something like bemusement. Battle strategy he understood, but this was not about Xena facing down a man and killing him. That could put Aphrodite in danger. No, it was about deception and conspiracy – all the things that Xena usually despised him for. Gabrielle tried to explain to him about the Greater Good, but he laughed and would not listen. Xena didn’t care to explain anything to him at all. What would it matter? He’d do what she asked anyway.

 

“No, that’s too dangerous.”

 

They were planning how Xena should enter Rome, how she should approach Caligula, and how Ares would get inside the palace.

 

“What?” Gabrielle stopped her talk in mid-flow. “You’re the one in danger.”

 

“I can protect myself,” Xena retorted, then bit her tongue.

 

“And I can’t?” Ares stood and faced her. “I taught you everything you know. You think I can’t play my part here, for fear?”

 

Xena shook her head. “Forget fear. Or don’t, whatever. You’ve never had to avoid the blade at the cost of your life, not as I have. And it isn’t a joke!”

 

But it wasn’t a smile of amusement. “I’ve been mortal for several seasons now – and I’ve never had to avoid a blade?”

 

It was different, though, if he was facing the blade for her.

 

“Xena.” And Gabrielle spoke quietly now. “It will be all right.”

 

No, it wouldn’t, but there was not much she could do about that. They were now approaching familiar territory. She knew these lands, because she’d chased Livia – her daughter – through them, picked up her trail by the number of bodies cast on the ground. Soon they’d be walking through the streets of Rome; soon they’d be walking through the halls of the Emperor’s palace. There was nothing here but blood and hate.

 

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

 

“So – is he your lover?”

 

The brigands lived in trees, it seemed; in strange tents strung up between tall trees. They glowed now, as it grew darker, from candlelight. Eve had found herself in Tal’s tent, which had not altogether surprised her.

 

“Lovers?” she laughed. “No. He’s – I respect him.”

 

Tal frowned at that. “You respect him, therefore you cannot love him? I do not understand.”

 

“We weren’t talking about love,” Eve said. “You asked me if I slept with him. That’s – that’s about conquest, not love. About making someone less than you; about having power over them. Why would I do that to Cl – Alexander?”

 

Tal nodded, understanding. “So you’ve never felt love.”

 

Eve looked at him, bemused. She had had many lovers. She had been entranced by a few of them – or conquered by them, as she later understood it. Like Ares. He smelt of power, he glowed with it. She didn’t care that he was conquering her, then, because it felt good to be taken. She had thought herself in love, she supposed, but the moment she saw him with her mother – she winced at the memory – any thought of affection left her.

 

“Love isn’t what you feel,” she explained gently. “It’s what you do. I could kill you right now, for instance, so I’d be free to go – but I choose not to, because you are a human being, worthy of life. That’s love.”

 

“I believe you could,” Tal replied slowly. A smile broke over his face. “That is your love, is it? I do understand that.”

 

Eve smiled in return, a little uncertainly.

 

“Sleep here –“ And he indicated a pile of furs. “I won’t touch you, don’t fear. Though you aren’t afraid, are you?” He looked at her with some respect. “You and your companion will be free to leave in the morning.”

 

He moved towards the opening of the tent, leaving Eve awkward and confused in the centre of the room. Then he hesitated, and moved back towards her, touching her hand lightly.

 

“One day, though, you’ll leave everything you have, without a moment’s warning, because you’ll want to feel love. I’ll be here, then.”

 

Then he left her.

 

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

 

They reached Rome by nightfall, as they’d planned – which meant they were able to bring in the chariot under the cover of darkness. It was in the tavern stable, now, hidden with a bribe, as their horses were. Xena had no intention of risking Argo in a foolish race. Instead, they would hire a matched pair, trained for such things. Gabrielle was now securing the deal, after Xena had selected the animals she wanted.

 

She stayed at the window of their room in the Inn, watching the small lights flicker in the palace windows. Listening to the soft buzz of the night travellers. A cool breeze swept in through the window; then, behind her, the door slammed. She turned, to see Ares enter, carrying the saddlebags, things necessary for the night.

 

“Thanks.”

 

She turned back to the window, but he approached her, standing behind her. She hadn’t realised how cold she had felt until he was behind her, sheltering her.

 

“Tomorrow, then.”

 

“Yes.” There was nothing more to say. Perhaps tomorrow she would die; perhaps he would, or perhaps the plan would work and the only one to be destroyed would be Caligula.

 

His breath was warm on her cheek; his steady presence calmed her. She leaned a little back into him, and for a moment he surrounded her, but then he moved away, over to the door.

 

She heard it open again, and spoke quietly.

 

“You said, Gabrielle, that even when he wanted to kill me he loved me, more than ever. You were wrong.”

 

The words fell into silence. She turned around, and saw the room was empty.

 

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

 

It began just as they had planned. Xena raced towards the emperor, in her chariot; the emperor, surprised at her audacity, invited her to a feast that night, both she and Gabrielle, who represented her. Ares pushed her aside, but he was not rewarded for his action as they had hoped. Instead, he was thrown into prison. That was the first thing to go wrong.

 

The next was discovering that most of the heirs to the throne were either dead, missing, or entirely mad. It was clear that Rome would plunge into utter chaos once Caligula departed; and although Xena knew this would mean misery for the common people, part of her fiercely longed to see the great city’s downfall. She and Gabrielle agreed, however, that an heir had to be found, and soon.

 

They had been placed in a sumptuous room in the palace, with a sunken bath, and a large canopied bed. Shedding their costumes hastily, they slipped into the steaming bath to secure their final plans.

 

“You’ve never been to a Roman feast, have you?” Xena asked Gabrielle cautiously.

 

“No – ow!” Gabrielle exclaimed, as Xena removed a thorn from the sole of her foot. “Thanks for that. No, what do I need to expect?”

 

Xena cleaned the small wound, then pulled herself out of the bath.

 

“Lots of food, and lots of flesh,” she told her bluntly. “Every kind of craving, every debauchery, is encouraged. Don’t shy away from it, don’t avert your eyes. Caligula will notice, believe me. Focus on reaching Aphrodite. The more kisses he steals from her, the sooner her godhood will be drained. She must understand that.”

 

“And you’ll distract him while I get Aphrodite away?” Gabrielle asked, frowning.

 

“Yes,” Xena nodded, pulling on her clothes and gathering a cloak about her. “There’s just something I need to do first.”

 

“Don’t forget you’re the guest of honour, Xena!” Gabrielle called after her retreating figure.

 

Gabrielle left the steaming bath reluctantly, looking at the clothes Xena had set out for her. It didn’t take her very long to slip them on, and make her way to the great hall, where the feast was to be held. A trail of loud music and laughter drew her. She shivered a little, remembering Xena’s words.

 

She pushed through the large wooden doors resolutely, and looked around. The music was deafening; then room smoky and crowded, giving the place a surreal feel. Tables were filled with food, delicacies of such rarity that Gabrielle could not name half of them. Low Roman chairs were filled with people, laughing, chattering, touching one another with passion or curiosity. Embroidered cushions were scattered about the floor, and Gabrielle reminded herself carefully not to turn her eyes away from the bodies curled about each other there.

 

A raised platform in the centre of the room was covered with soft pillows, overhung with a canopy of silk. There Caligula lay, watching the couple writhing beside him. Beside him, a heavy-lidded Aphrodite reclined, her head back. Gabrielle saw she was watching the reflections from the torches on the ceiling. She seemed entranced.

 

Gabrielle hesitated, waiting until she was certain Caligula’s eyes were elsewhere. Then she moved hastily to Aphrodite’s side.

 

“Aphrodite!”

 

The goddess didn’t stir, and Gabrielle laid a hand upon her shoulder. “Aphrodite! It’s me, Gabrielle!”

 

A look of annoyance crossed Aphrodite’s face. “Look, I’m busy, all right? Go find someone else to enjoy yourself with.”

 

Gabrielle jerked back, a hurt look crossing her face. “What? Why are you talking to me like that – I’m your friend!”

 

“Friend, friend, friend.” Aphrodite mimicked nastily, moving away. “We’re all friends here, aren’t we? We’re all . . . we’re all . . .”

 

Gabrielle’s heart sank. She didn’t recognise her – she didn’t know who she was. Caligula was stealing her mind, along with her godhood.

 

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

 

Xena remembered when she'd learned the layout of this palace; years ago, long years ago when she stalked Caesar, and near killed him.

 

So the location of the dungeon was etched in her mind. She found the narrow staircase that led to the darkened cells; listened quietly for the guard, and passed by them invisibly.

 

"Another good Roman to kill," she heard the guard grumble. "I'd always thought Claudius a decent man . . ."

 

"What decent man has a Elijan girl with him - and one who can fight like that?" another guard argued.

 

"She didn't fight - or at least, she never landed a blow. But they would have made it out of Rome if the extra guards hadn't shown up in time. Perhaps it's true - those who the gods favour die young . . ."

 

Xena froze. Eve had sent her a message promising she would keep the future heir of Rome safe - a good man, she'd promised. A good man who'd got her locked up in Rome once again.

 

She moved noiselessly by the guards, and along the row of darkened cells. Ares waited for her in one; Eve in another - and here she was running between the two. Xena began to tremble. Perhaps it was always her destiny to be destroyed by Rome.

 

"Mother!"

 

Xena looked over at the final cell. They were there - they were all there. Ares and Eve sat on the wooden bench, facing one another; Claudius stood by the lock, fiddling uselessly.

 

Xena slid a thin piece of metal from her boots, and handed it to the man. "Keep trying." Then she nodded at her daughter. "This wasn't where we planned to meet."

 

Eve smiled a little, but then Xena saw the lines on her face. Sudden fury overtook her. "What has he been saying to you?"

 

Eve shook her head quickly, then hesitated. She looked at her mother closely. "Sorry. He's been saying sorry."

 

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

 

The music stopped.

 

A muffled drum pounded, soft as a heartbeat. The voices died down; people turned, looking about. Caligula sat up, ignoring both Aphrodite and Gabrielle by his side, and stared. Then a lascivious smile came over his face, and he relaxed.

 

Xena stood in the centre of the great hall, masked in gold, a cloak covering her shoulders. Her fingers toyed with the heavy clasp, and her mouth opened a little. Then a shiver ran over her body; she trembled, smiled, and tore at the cloak. It fell at her feet.

 

Caligula sat forward at the sight of her. The tight-fitting sheer costume which she’d donned left little to the imagination. But that was her plan; to distract him, to drive him to distraction so Gabrielle could rescue Aphrodite. He moved a little forward again, and Xena herself stepped closer, holding out a hand, tempting him. Then she retreated.

 

Her dance would not hold him for long, she knew. After all, was he not pleasured with a hundred dancing girls? She turned her back on him, as she knew no others would dare do; instead, she held out a hand to another, the only other who would dare take it.

 

The expression on his face was wary; but he clasped her hand firmly, and did not flinch when she drew closer, moving inches away from his body before retreating again. It was a game. She turned her head, looked back at Caligula, who sat entranced. Again she held out a hand to him – then turned away.

 

She had explained to Ares his part in the dance. She had taken him from the prison and explained what they would have to do. He wasn’t afraid – he wasn’t confused. The look in his eyes as she came closer, then leapt away was something like sadness – something like understanding.

 

It was several beats of the drum before she actually touched his skin, and spread a hand firm over his chest, before raking her nails down. He flinched a little, then moved out to her – just like the game, just as they’d planned. She stepped back, turned her back on him, moved to Caligula, moved her mouth just a little above his. But before his lips touched her own she was back – in two slow backflips she was in front of Ares again. Turning her head, she saw Gabrielle finally ushering Aphrodite out. They had to distract Caligula now, to give them enough time to get away.

 

She refused to touch his lips. Instead she knelt, touching her mouth against his chest, tugging at his bare nipple, running her tongue down to his belly. He put his hand on her face then, lifting it up so their eyes connected. She shook a little – then leapt away, moved back to Caligula, weaving back and forward, drawing Ares and Caligula closer and closer as the drums beat louder, faster, tracing fingers lightly, tasting flesh softly, her eyes flashing, drawing both men by the hand until they were at her feet at last.

 

The drum stopped.

 

“Forgive my dancing partner, will you not, for his jealousy?” Xena purred. “He is very useful to me.”

 

Caligula choked, got himself up, and nodded. “He is pardoned. You will dance for me again?”

 

“At our victory feast,” Xena agreed, as Ares lifted to cloak and placed it around her shoulders. “As for now, we tire, and the race is tomorrow. May we depart?”

 

Caligula nodded again, his eyes following her as she strode out, Ares a little way behind. It was not until they were into the corridor again that the loud music struck up.

 

They walked side by side down darkened hallways, silent, shivering. An alcove with a window, showing the night sky and a single star beckoned. They turned at the same time, moving to the window seat, falling into each other’s arms, lips finally hungrily meeting lips. Still silent. Xena moaned at the fever growing in her, and the sound echoed down the empty hallway. They paused – moved apart – kept walking to the room where Aphrodite and Gabrielle waited.

 

Three more alcoves intercepted their journey, as though the spaces drove them together, with hungering mouths and searching hands. Each time a sound – Ares’ sigh, Xena’s broken cry – would awake them, and they would continue through the palace. Finally Xena recognised the door, and moved hastily through it.

 

“Gabrielle? Gabrielle!”

 

Xena rushed to the girl’s side. She was lying beside Aphrodite on the bed, her head in her hands.

 

“What happened?”

 

Gabrielle’s eyes darkened. “I tried to stop him, but there were too many guards – they would have killed us both –“

 

Ares moved quickly over to his sister, shaking her. “Aphrodite?”

 

She smiled a little distractedly, looking up at Ares. “Hey, big bro. What are you doing here?” She sat up looking about the large room. “Come to think of it, what am I doing here? This isn’t Olympus, I can see that –“

 

Gabrielle looked over at Ares and Aphrodite sadly. “No, it’s as far from there as possible . . .” She looked up at Xena. “Caligula stole his final kiss from Aphrodite.”

 

Aphrodite was frowning. “Is this a dream, or something? I want to get out of here, and like, nothing is happening!”

 

“Caligula has stolen your powers, Aphrodite,” Xena explained wearily. “We tried to stop him but – we were too late.”

 

“ _Stolen_ my powers?” Aphrodite repeated. “Make him give them back!”

 

“It’s not so easy,” Gabrielle told her softly. “A sword that a thief has taken – that can be returned. But kisses . . .”

 

Ares looked up. “I told you, kisses can be returned, too.”

 

Xena shivered, drew her cloak more tightly around her.

 

“Caligula stole Aphrodite’s kisses, and with it her power. But if he were to return her kiss . . .”

 

“Her powers would be restored, too,” Gabrielle gasped. “That’s the answer!”

 

Aphrodite looked sceptical. “This guy’s going to want to kiss me after all this?”

 

“We’ll get you a disguise,” Gabrielle promised. “A hat or something. If anyone can entice an emperor, surely it’s the goddess of love!” She got up then, and squeezed Xena’s hand. “I’ll go with Aphrodite and find her a disguise.”

 

Xena nodded. “Ares and I will go free Eve and Claudius from the cells – there may be need for a new emperor tonight.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

 

"She's in there?"

 

"She's been in there half an hour," Gabrielle admitted.

 

Xena sat outside the door of Caligula's room and grimaced.

 

"I hate to think -"

 

"Mmm."

 

They sat in the cool silence of the hallway and waited. Then Gabrielle looked over at Xena.

 

"Your daughter really came through - I think Claudius will make a difference."

 

Xena smiled a little. "She's a wonder."

 

"Like mother, like daughter," Gabrielle reminded her. Then she took her friend's hand. "Perhaps through her you will finally conquer Rome."

 

Xena looked at her friend thoughtfully. "Or maybe it's not about conquering, after all."

 

There was a sound, a sudden cut-off cry, and a laugh. Xena and Gabrielle leapt up, and pulled open the door.

 

"I've sent him to the smelliest, ugliest little cell in the whole of Rome." Aphrodite said triumphantly, rinsing out her mouth. "Hasn't anyone every told him about mouthwash? Ugh!"

 

Gabrielle laughed, and Aphrodite held out a hand. "Come on - let's get out of here."

 

Xena hesitated. "You go ahead. There's something I've got to do, first."

 

Gabrielle nodded. "See you in Greece."

 

"I will," Xena promised, watching as Aphrodite and her friend shimmered and disappeared. "I'll see you soon."

 

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

 

Eve had agreed to stay with Claudius a little longer, until his hold on power within the city was assured.

 

"After that - who knows? Perhaps I'll head East again," she suggested, looking thoughtful. "I've still got a lot to learn."

 

Xena found herself alone then, in their room - the sunken bath empty, the room quiet. She moved restlessly over to the window, knowing that because of her daughter - and because of those her daughter knew - the city had some kind of peace, for perhaps the first time.

 

There was a step behind her, and she turned. He was there, watching her - how long had he been watching her? - but now he turned away from her, casually dropping one of his gauntlets on the floor behind him.

 

She stared, and moved slowly to pick it up. Then she smiled.


End file.
